


"You're really drunk right now."

by Its_Nikki_Bitch



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Gay Panic, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Jeremy is oblivious, M/M, Michael is a pining little shit, Michael is such an anxious baby, Or Is he?, Pining, Underage Drinking, boyf riends - Freeform, do ya'lls want a sequel?, i talk in the tags, mutual?, pining!Michael
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 06:23:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17617190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Its_Nikki_Bitch/pseuds/Its_Nikki_Bitch
Summary: “You’re really drunk right now.” Michael snickered. He took Jeremy by the wrist and led him into the house.“Not drunk,” Jeremy assured him. “You’re just blurry.”Oh, god. He was wasted.“Alright. Alright. I’ll bring you some water, then I’ll take you to bed. Sound like a plan?” Jeremy giggled as he pondered Michael’s words.“You gunna take m’ to bed, Mikey?” He snickered waspishly. What was he going on abou—Oh... Oh!“Haha. You're hilarious, Jeremy. You wish—”“Yeah.” He agreed with a sigh.





	"You're really drunk right now."

**Author's Note:**

> This is the product of my love for Be More Chill and my love for fanfiction. So, voila!

“You’re really drunk right now.” Michael snickered. He took Jeremy by the wrist and led him into the house. Michael glanced over towards the curb and nodded his thanks to Christine. He was glad she had enough sense to bring him here instead of to his own home.

After the SQUIP-cident (as Rich had dubbed it; not a huge shocker—he also started calling their group “The SQUIP Squad”) Jeremy’s father had pulled his life together, and would undoubtedly ground Jeremy if he learned that his son had been drinking. Christine nodded back to him with a small salute and started her own trek home. Michael had known, of course, that there had been a party tonight. Jeremy had tried to persuade him to join, but there had simply been too many people for Michael to be comfortable with.  
  
Jeremy offered to hang with him instead, in the typical Jeremy-fashion. Michael had seen how much Jeremy wanted to attend the party and assured him he’d be okay for one night. It’s not like he couldn’t handle a night alone. He... He had gotten used to those.

_‘Looks like he enjoyed himself just fine.’_ Michael laughed to himself. “How much did you drink, dude? You’re totally shitfaced!”

“Not drunk,” Jeremy assured him. “You’re just blurry.”

Oh, god. He was _wasted._

“Alright. Alright. I’ll bring you some water, then I’ll take you to bed. Sound like a plan?” Michael deposited his companion onto a kitchen stool, taking care to lean Jeremy onto the counter. He didn’t seem very stable.

Jeremy giggled as he pondered Michael’s words. He seemed to be absorbed in his own world. “What’s so funny, man?” The sober teen asked

“You gunna take m’ to bed, Mikey?” He giggled once more. What? What was so absurd about—Oh... Oh!

“Haha. Hilarious, Jer. You wish—”

“Yeah.” He agreed with a sigh. He sipped at his water.

Michael couldn’t seem to move. Even though Jeremy was talking out of his ass, as drunk people tend to do, it hurt to entertain the hope that Jeremy wanted, well... _that_ as well. That he felt the same way about Michael as Michael did about him. The shorter teen was jerked back to reality as Jeremy reached across the counter and squeezed Michael’s fingers.

The touch tingled all the way up his arm, then licked down his spine.

‘ _Stop it, Michael._ ’ He chastised himself.

Jeremy peered up at him with large, sparkling eyes. “You a’right?” He tried. Michael felt himself tear up. This boy was almost too much.

“Never been better.” He lied. “C’mon.”

* * *

Getting Jeremy into Michael’s bedroom/basement/Batcave proved to be a difficult feat. The boy tried to accommodate Michael, but he kept tripping over himself and wanted to sit and “rest”.

“You’re going to fall asleep if I let you sit, Jer.”

Jeremy’s eyes drooped dangerously low as he leaned into Michael. “Carry me.” He purred. He didn’t mean to, he truly didn’t, but Michael — for lack of better word — let out an affronted squeak.

“Dude! I can’t carry you! You’re like—”

“ _Were you about to call me fat?!_ ” Jeremy squawked. “I’ll have you know, _Micah_ , that I am a fucking _princess_ who demands to be carried to bed!” He crossed his arms with a huff.

Michael couldn’t argue with that.

“Alright.” Jeremy’s face lit up, as if he didn’t consider that Michael would cave and carry him. “ _Alley-oop!_ ” Michael yelled stupidly.

He swept Jeremy into his arms, bridal style, and tried not to stumble.

“‘Kay?” Jeremy inquired.

“Yeah,” Michael grunted.

A few minutes later (Michael had nearly toppled down the stairs _twice_ ) the shorter dropped Jeremy onto his bed, howling with laughter when he nearly bounced off of it.  “ _Micah,”_ Jeremy whined. Michael tried not to let it do things to his insides. _“Don’t be so mean to me!”_

With a rumbling breath, he rebutted, “Stop being so entertaining, then.”

Jeremy didn’t seem to hear him. Instead, he caught Michael’s wrist and yanked him onto the bed. “M’cold.” He explained and he curled against Michael’s abdomen.

Michael knew Jeremy was a cuddly drunk (he’d heard many tales from the rest of the group, much to Jeremy’s dismay. _“He’s a snuggle machine, man!”_ Rich had chuckled. _“Two drinks in and he’ll be clinging to you like a freaking monkey.”)_ but he had never been on the receiving end of the snuggle assaults. He ran his fingers through Jeremy’s brown hair, hoping he wasn’t infringing on his privacy. Oh, who was he kidding? Right now, Jeremy didn’t have _any_ privacy, clinging to Michael like he was.

“You smell good, Mike.” Jeremy’s hot breath ghosted across Michael’s belly and melted into his skin. He tried not to shudder.

“That’s gay, Jer.”

“Well, yeah...”

The shorter teen couldn’t help but laugh. He laughed so hard that he squeezed his eyes shut and his gut soon started to ache. Even though he didn’t seem to get what was so amusing, Jeremy’s grin gleamed up at him, delighted to see his friend in such a joyous state.

“You smell like…”

_Wait for it…_

“... Weed and leather.”

_There it was._

Michael chuckled. “That’s because I’ve been sitting on my ass all evening up on Mom’s leather couch.” _Waiting for you to come home._ But Michael didn’t say this aloud. He hadn’t been smoking though. The smell was just kind of infused on him. How his mothers never noticed, he didn‘t know.

Michael watched as Jeremy’s face adopted a more neutral state and his breathing evened out. He was asleep.

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding and struggled to calm himself, to no avail. Every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire. It’s not like they had never slept in the same bed before. But Jeremy, the finicky boy he was, always slept with his back to Michael. He had never snuggled him.

Michael felt his lips twitch up into a smile and his eyelids grow heavy. Against his better judgment, he pulled Jeremy as close as possible and fell asleep completely wrapped around the boy.

* * *

When Jeremy woke up, he was confused as to why he was in pitch black and so hot, he could _smell_ the sweat from his armpits. Bleugh.

_Head... hurts... Oh god._

What day was it? Jeremy reached for his phone but clashed with a head of thick, coarse hair. “M-Michael.” Jeremy whisper-shouted. His voice rattled in his skull and he grimaced. Lessening the volume of his voice, he continued, “What time is it?”

Michael’s eyes fluttered open groggily. He hadn’t taken his glasses off the night before, and they dangled dangerously off the tip of his nose. Hair stuck out here and there. Michael looked as though he had been thoroughly fu— “Time isn’t real, Jer-bear.” He yawned. “Shut up and go back to sleep.”

Jeremy wished he could. “My head hurts. And I have to pee. And I’m hungry. And—”

“I get it. God! I should’ve left you on that street corner where you were standing.” Michael corrected his glasses and sat up. His arms popped when he stretched them above his head.

“But you didn’t,” Jeremy mumbled. The boys shared a quiet laugh.

“I’ll go fix us some breakfast while you take a shower and some Advil, okay?” Michael suggested. Jeremy nodded in approval.

He shuffled over to Michael’s dresser and seized a clean outfit. A while ago, Michael had broken the drawer, so Jeremy didn’t need to open it.

“Come on, man! You come into _my_ house _,_ crash in _my bed,_ and now you’re stealing _my clothes._ Have you no sense of boundaries?” Michael jut out his hip and struck an ‘ _are-you-kidding-me-right-now’_ sort of pose, complete with a palm on his hip.

The taller teen refused to give in to his friend’s teasing. “First of all, fuck you. You steal my clothes all the time—”

“—I borrowed a T-shirt _once_ , Jeremy—”

“—And second, what I’m wearing now is gross and smells like cheap beer and I _refuse_ to put dirty clothes back on after my shower. So unless you want me parading around your house naked—”

“Yes, please."

Jeremy rolled his eyes. “You’re so gay. I’m gonna go shower now.” He raced up the stairs. He heard Michael mutter something unflattering about him.

“I heard that!”

“You were supposed to!”

* * *

 “Yes, please.” _Fuck! Why the fuck did I say that?! Michael, you pervert. Jeremy is your_ best friend _! That’s all you will ever be. Friends. He knows. Oh, god. He knows. SHIT!_

Jeremy sighed, presumably tired of Michael’s shit. “You’re so gay. I’m gonna go shower now.” He turned his back to Michael.

“ _Bitch... Priorities out of whack… Take a freaking chill pill..._ ”

“I heard that!” The door slammed.

“You were supposed to!” Michael hollered back. A lie. A complete lie.

The teen let out a heavy sigh. It was becoming harder and harder to act chill around Jeremy. Michael felt a knot in his stomach and heard it make an ungodly noise. Either from hunger or nerves, he didn’t know.

Michael prepared breakfast hastily and sat at the table, absently pushing the back of his spoon to the bottom of the bowl, feeling how the marshmallows cracked and vanished into the milk. He wouldn’t be able to disguise his emotions much longer. Everything Jeremy did caused Michael’s entire body to heat up with fever. His attention insisted that it be on Jeremy at all times.

Just last week, he had crashed his PT Cruiser into the school fence because Jeremy had been in the passenger’s seat, just belting along to _Dear Evan Hansen,_ and Michael hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything other than his crush.

* * *

**Jeremy, eyes closed and bopping his head to the beat of the song, was doing it again. He never did it on purpose, but his voice demanded everyone’s attention and Michael was glad to give it to him.**

**_“On the outside, always looking in… Will I ever be more than I’ve always been? ‘Cause I’m tap, tap, tapping on the glass... I’m waving through a win—_ ** **MICHAEL! FENCE!”**

* * *

 The school was forcing Michael to pay for the property damage and if he was _any less in love with Jeremy_ , then he would blame the taller for distracting him. But he wasn’t going to do that. Probably.

He had it bad. Like, it was going to get him killed _real soon._ Literally.

Jeremy, in all his gangly glory, strode into the kitchen. He wore grey sweatpants with a black tank top that was too big around his stomach, and just a _smidge_ too short vertically. Michael could see a strip of pale skin when Jeremy raised his arms. Water rivulets rolled off his neck and disappeared into his shirt.

_Michael, you gay son of a—_

Michael recalled resting on the couch with his Mum, watching those god-awful romantic Hallmark movies. This was like those movies. But _much_ worse because it _was actually happening._

The shorter teen quickly checked for drool. His fingers came back dry. Thank god.

The clueless fuck (Jeremy. He was talking about Jeremy.) just beamed at him and prepared his own breakfast. _He doesn’t even realize how perfect he is. Bitch._ Michael fumed to himself.

“—anks, Micah. What would I do without you?”

A barrage of insults and comments referring to _The_ _Incident_ erupted in his throat, but he crammed them down with a nauseous groan. “You’d probably end up being trampled to death under the foot of the high school hierarchy.”

“Preach.”

An awkward silence settled over them as they ate. Well, it was awkward for Michael. Jeremy probably realized nothing amiss. When Jeremy rose and declared that he should probably head home, Michael couldn’t help feeling a little relieved. Okay, _very relieved._

Jeremy collected his things and Michael waved him out the door. He’d survived another day.

* * *

 Later, when Michael went into the bathroom, he saw a piece of fabric peeking from behind the toilet. Jeremy had forgotten his shirt.

Michael knew he should have stuck it in his backpack to give back to its owner on Monday. Instead of depositing the shirt in his bag, he made the last minute decision to bury it under his pillow. It would remain there for now.

**Author's Note:**

> What do you think? Think I should write a sequel to this? I'm open to ideas. I'd also love to hear (Heere. Heh.) any feedback you guys have. I love reading that.
> 
> I don't have a BMC focused blog (it's actually a little bit of everything) but if you want to check out my blog, it's right here.
> 
> https://its-nikki-bitch.tumblr.com/
> 
> (You caught me. This is a shameless plug. But honestly, if you check out my Tumblr and message me about any of my fics, you will instantly become my friend.)


End file.
